The Storyteller's Scrapbook
by GoddessOfTechnology
Summary: A compilation of various incomplete one-shots, head-canons, and mutant requests, dumped here because they frankly don't belong in "Shards of Ice". Warning: Enter at your own risk. There be much madness here.
1. Smoke and Mirrors

**A/N:**

 **Muse went crazy. 'Nuff said.  
**

 **(please refer to chapter 10 of "Shards of Ice" beforehand.)**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own RotG**

* * *

 _Jack and Jill,_

 _Went up the hill,_

 _To fetch a pail of water._

 _Jack fell down,_

 _And broke his crown,_

 _And Jill came tumbling after._

* * *

"Well, well, _well._ And what have we _here_?"

The female spirit stared at him hungrily, her pointed teeth glinting in the sparse candlelight. With an unnerving smile, she poked one cracked fingernail through the bars of his cage and gently stroked his cheek. His attempts to shuffle away were largely unsuccessful, as his cage was far too small to permit more than the smallest of movements.

Tooth practically snarled at the female spirit, her voice dark and menacing."Keep your hands off of him, _Serules_ , or I swear you will regret it."

Serules simply smiled indulgently, looking horribly like a python that had just wrapped itself around its prey. "What, and give up such a fine source of horrid memories? My dear Toothiana, I'm afraid you misjudge me."

Tooth's glare turned almost feral."I do not misjudge you. You are a monster, who preys on bad memories and on trauma, and I will not let you hurt him. Now keep your hands _off of him_."

Serules' smile remained, but it now had a dark and somewhat bitter tinge to it. "A monster, am I? And pray, Toothiana, would I be a monster now, if you had but accepted me? You would not be here now, trapped in a cage, if you had not abandoned me. Your little friend here would not be at my mercy if you had not derided me. We could have been partners, good and bad memories working together to achieve a common goal! We could have been friends! We could have been _family."_

The Hungarian spirit barked out a hollow laugh at that, and her dark eyes took on a maniacal glint. "But all that is past now, my dear. Now nothing you say or do will stop me. I despise you, and all you hold dear, including your little frost child. And I will _break you._ "

And she laughed, her demented chuckles echoing off the walls of the catacombs.

Jack shivered.

* * *

The atmosphere at the Pole was tense, everyone going around their business with impassive masks on their faces and worry in their hearts. Even the normally boisterous elves had toned down somewhat, slinking around depressively with sad looks on their faces, their little bells chiming sadly.

The three remaining Guardians were holding a council of war in the Globe Room.

"We have ta find them."

The gray Pooka was the first to speak up, his words echoing the sentiments of the remaining Guardians. Bunny was right: they had to find them.

The question was: "How?"

* * *

"Now, let's see just what little secrets our dear Jack is hiding."

As the she-devil raised her hand to touch his forehead, Jack was struck with a sense of grim foreboding. The closer the hand came, the more terrified he felt.

 _Nononononononono-_

The cold, green-white fingertip connected with his forehead, and slowly, his vision began to swirl, growing steadily darker.

A thin, painfully familiar voice whispered at the edge of his conscious.

 _Jack._

 _I'm scared._

All turned black.

* * *

"The catacombs in Paris are huge, Bunny. We will not be able to find them."

The Pooka's green eyes narrowed in determination. "We'll find them. We gotta find them."

Sandy nodded.

* * *

Blue.

Blue and black.

Blue and black and gray.

Brown.

White.

Cracking.

Terror.

"Jack, I'm scared."

"I know. But you're gonna be okay. You're not going to fall in."

Hopscotch.

A game.

"Now it's your turn."

Triumph.

Ice giving away, like a fragile house of cards.

"JACK!"

* * *

"To the sleigh!"

The gravity of the situation was clearly expressed when Bunny made no word of complaint, simply climbing into the sleigh with a scowl.

* * *

Blue.

Blue everywhere.

Water.

Drowning.

No air.

 _Help._

No one coming.

 _Why is no one helping?_

Cold.

Dark.

 _I'm scared._

 **Your name...is Jack Frost.**

* * *

No one spoke a word as the bright red sleigh flew over the Atlantic Ocean. But all were thinking the same thing: were Jack and Tooth alright?

* * *

He was torn from the horrible memories like a swimmer brought to the surface by a stray current. The feeling of drowning was fresh in his mind, and in spite of himself he found himself breathing rapidly.

"...Sweet Tooth?"

"Well, well, well. Looks like being an immortal child isn't all sunshine and rainbows. I wonder what else you have stored in that pretty little head of yours?"

"Stay away from him!"

He scuttled away from the pale green hand, his heart thumping nervously as he pressed his back against the bars of the cage. "D-don't touch me!"

"That would be a shame, wouldn't it? Just when we're starting to have so much _fun_."

 _Jack._

 _Jack, I'm scared._

* * *

The sleigh skidded down the pavement, coming to rest outside the entrance to the catacombs.

"We're here."

* * *

He surfaced for the second time, his chest heaving as he began to hyperventilate. Dimly, he was aware of Tooth yelling at Serules to leave him alone, but he knew that would not happen. He was trapped, forced to endure his worst memory over and over and over again until the end of time itself.

A pale green hand reached for him.

He screamed.

* * *

They were lost. Hopelessly lost in the maze of the catacomb's passageways.

"Shostakovitch! There is no way we can find them in this place!"

"We have ta find them, North. We have ta!"

"There is no way, I tell you-"

And that was when they heard it.

A scream.

Echoing down the walls of the cavern.

They ran like never before.

* * *

The first emotion that registered in the Pooka's mind as they broke into the room was shock.

The second was _rage_.

For there was that damned she-devil, bending over Jack with her hand on his forehead and sick glee on her face, while Jack screamed, trapped in a world of smoke and mirrors. And she was _laughing._

 _How dare she!_

 _How_ _ **dare**_ _she!_

Needless to say, he felt more amusement than remorse when he saw her shocked face after he had hit her in the head with a boomerang.

* * *

 _Jack._

 _Jack, I'm scared._

"Jack, are you alright?"

He broke out of his reverie only to see that the guardians were all looking at him with matching expressions of concern. With an effort, he plastered on a smile. "I'm fine."

He could see that none of them believed him, but to his relief, they didn't pry.

* * *

Jack was only too happy to escape the celebrations at the Pole and fly to his lake. As much as he liked the Guardians, he found their presence somewhat stifling, and right now he wanted nothing more than to be alone.

Expertly, he landed smoothly on his favorite branch of his favorite tree, and settled himself down for a nap. It had been an exhausting day.

But as he felt his grasp on consciousness begin to weaken, he could have sworn he saw a small, familiar figure standing in the middle of his frozen lake…

 _Jack._

 _Jack, I'm scared._

* * *

 _Jack and Jill,_

 _Went up the hill,_

 _To fetch a pail of water._

 _Jack fell down,_

 _ **And broke his crown,**_

 _And Jill came tumbling after._

* * *

 **A/N: Anybody have any idea what happened to Jack?**

 **Look at the bolded line of the poem, it contains a clue...**

 **Still don't see it?**

 **Well, "crown" is another name for "head", and the breaking doesn't have to be taken literally...**

 **BTW, Serules is the evil counterpart of Tooth (look at Chapter 10 of "Shards of Ice"). She feeds on bad memories and trauma (her name actually means "trauma" in Hungarian")**

 **...Thoughts?**


	2. Thirteen Minutes

**A/N:**

 **This little maniacal incoherent gem was born from two hours of reading _American McGee's Alice_ fanfiction.  
**

 **I don't even play** ** _American McGee's Alice..._**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own!  
**

* * *

 _"Into the hole again, we hurried along our way, into a once-glorious garden now steeped in dark decay_."-Alice, from _American McGee's Alice_

* * *

It was supposed to be simple.

Get in, grab the moon crystal, get out.

Except it wasn't.

* * *

By E. Aster Bunnymund's estimate, it had taken approximately thirteen minutes for what was once a carefully controlled operation to turn into Hell.

It was so quick. One moment, the five Guardians were fleeing from the Maniae, casually exchanging banter and jokes as they fled towards freedom; The next, Jack had been hurt.

It was quick, the sickly green blast of magic coming out of nowhere and hitting Jack square in the chest. There was one, terrifying moment where the frost child had simply frozen, mouth and eyes wide open in shock, and then he had fallen.

Right in the middle of the crowd of bloodthirsty Maniae.

For approximately thirteen minutes, Jack had been hidden from view by a swirl of bodies, surrounding and overwhelming him. There had been a few, weak blue pulses of energy at first as he attempted to fight them, but those soon faded away. And the Guardians could only watch in horror as their youngest fell prey to the Maniae.

Slowly, so slowly, the cloud had dissipated, until there were only a few demons surrounding their winter child. But the Guardian's relief was short-lived, for as they rushed towards their youngest, a surprising and concerning sight met their eyes.

His hair was no longer white, but instead a muddy brown, while his formerly cerulean eyes had been changed to the same color. His skin no longer held a deathly pallor, but was the healthy pink of a human child.

But what was most concerning was the frantic gleam of madness in his chocolate-brown eyes. It danced in those brown orbs like a dangerous spark, at risk of starting a blazing inferno at any moment.

And as a manic giggle suddenly escaped the lips of their youngest, the Guardians realized something:

The assault may have lasted only thirteen minutes, but they were thirteen minutes too many.

* * *

They had tried everything.

Everything under the sun. Spells, magic, herbs, heck, even his memory toothbox _._

But nothing had helped. His mind was still shattered, like a ship dashed against the rocks.

He remembered little of the Guardians, instead ranting about "Emma", "ice cracking", and "drowning". He was becoming more violent as well, thrashing randomly whenever one of them touched him.

Then, he crossed the line.

It was a memory that each of the Guardians would carry to their dying day. Jack had been in a rare moment of relative calm, staring catatonically at the ceiling as he lay limp in his infirmary bed. Suddenly, with a single fluid movement, he had grabbed a spoon and, wielding it like a dagger, stabbed Tooth in the shoulder with it. There had been no emotion on his youthful face, not even when Tooth gave a scream of pain as her ruby-red blood splattered on the white tiled floor.

After that, they had to put him in a straitjacket.

* * *

Three months, and still no improvement. Their Jack (for he was still _theirs,_ even if his mind was broken and his reason fried) was still violent and unpredictable.

He had taken to talking to himself. Most of his talk was mere gibberish, the subject bouncing around like Tooth on a sugar-high, but occasionally a few moments of clarity shone through the darkness.

He was in one of those moments of lucidity when Bunny was on watch.

"Hey, Kangaroo!"

It took no other prompt for Bunny to rush to his little brother's bedside. For a brilliant, shining second the Pooka felt a faint ray of hope…

Hope that was swiftly dashed when the older Guardian saw the tell-tale glint of madness in the boy's eyes.

"Hey, Kangaroo, wanna hear a story?"

The warrior bit back a caustic comment, instead deciding to humor the kid. "Sure, Jackie. Let's hear that story of yers."

"Well then, you'd better sit down. It's a long one."

Bunny did so.

The brown-haired imp breathed in deeply, as though steeling himself for a painful task, before a sudden manic smile grew on his face. He giggled lightly before beginning to speak.

"Once upon a time, there was a boy and his younger sister."

He coughed.

"They were as close as close could be, always together and carefree."

A slight giggle.

"They loved each other like no one else, their love a legend in itself."

Outside, the wind howled.

"One day on a frozen lake, they both went out to skate."

Was Bunny imagining it, or was there a faint sound of cracking…?

"The ice cracked beneath their feet, speaking a tale of harsh defeat."

The windows rattled as the wind blew all the harder.

"The boy didn't want his sister to die, so he decided to tell a lie."

There was that cracking noise again…

"He told her they would be fine, even though shivers went up his spine."

 _Jack, I'm scared…_

"He pushed her off the ice, she was safe, but at a price."

 _Jack!_

"The ice broke underneath him, but he didn't know how to swim."

 _Jack! I'm scared!_

"He thrashed in dark blue water, like a lamb brought to the slaughter."

 _JACK!_

"His struggles slowly ceased, he was finally deceased."

 _JACK! NO!_

"But this was not the end, no, far from it, my friend!"

 _JACK! COME BACK!_

"For the moon then brought him back...and told him his name was Jack."

* * *

All was quiet at the Pole.

Even the rail-thin figure creeping through the hallways was quiet.

He made his way carefully through the passageways, hardly daring to make a sound, the ripped remnants of a bloodstained straitjacket hanging limply off his slender frame. Silently, he sneaked into the Globe Room.

From there, it was simplicity itself to climb onto one of the windowsills and open the window. For what seemed like an eternity, the figure simply stood there, staring blankly into the white void as the wind whipped around him and the Moon bathed him in its rays.

Then, with a swift, decisive moment, the figure stepped off the windowsill into the void.

And as he fell, he shouted a final request to an old friend.

"Wind, take me home!"

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Maniae are ancient Greek spirits that personify madness and insanity.**

 **Also, I'm leaving it up to you as to what exactly happened to Jack and Bunny.**

 **...Review?**


	3. Red Giant

**A/N:I have no clue where this POS came from.  
**

 **Seriously. No clue.  
**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own, so take that, suckers!**

* * *

 _This is how the world will end_

 _In a stew, in a stew_

 _Kiss me, foe, and weep me, friend_

 _Parting's old, parting's new_

 _Ashes to ashes, though all the tongues brawl,_

 _Dust unto dust, over great, over small_

 _Atom to atom, and let the sun fall:_

 _Spill the brew. –_ "Dinny and the Witches", William Gibson

* * *

The sun shone red in the sky, so close that Jack could almost touch it. The heat was unbearable.

The Guardians were gone, the death of the human race making their presence irrelevant and causing them to fade into oblivion. Even Manny had faded somewhat, the fiery-hot sun drowning out the feeble light of the moon. Only Jack had remained, his status as a Nature spirit meaning that he was forced to remain on Earth. Yet the heat was driving him closer and closer to death.

But that was not the most pressing thing.

For Jack was used to the heat by now. Year upon sweltering year of waiting, of suffering as the sun's surface came closer and closer, of enduring unspeakable torment as his very season faded out of existence, had hardened him. Yes, he was used to the heat now. And his pain had mattered before, yes, but now it did no longer.

No, what truly mattered now were the summer spirits. The influx of heat had endowed them with prodigious power, to the point where their very minds had been affected. They had changed from peaceful and somewhat flippant spirits to bloodthirsty, power-hungry monsters.

Even Jack's adoptive-brother Blaze had succumbed to the madness.

The Head Seasonal of Summer was cackling at him now, a crazed glint in his hazel eyes. "There's nowhere to run, Jackie."

With a confidence he didn't really feel, Jack replied snidely. "Who said anything about running, Blazy?"

To his right, his ex-mentor Jokul gripped his French sabre tightly, little gray frost patterns forming on the handle that faded away in the heat. To his left, Old Man Winter glared venomously at the summer spirit, electric-white crackles of energy dancing around his bare feet. For the first and final time, the three winter spirits were putting their differences aside to face this common threat.

All three of them knew, however, that none of them would make it out of this alive.

Even Blaze did.

"Hmmm...I don't know, running might be a wise thing to do, Jackie. There's not much any of you can do in this heat, y'know?"

That was unfortunately true. Even as they were speaking, Jokul's translucent gray armor was melting, slushy gray water dripping persistently from his frame and revealing the simple gray tunic he wore underneath. Old Man Winter looked no better, his long white hair plastered to his face and his snow-colored robes drenched in sweat. Jack himself felt weak as a kitten, the frost on his hoodie having melted and sweat dripping from his face.

But if Jack knew one thing, it was that none of them would back down. Because thanks to Blaze, winter was dying, and one of the things about being a seasonal spirit was that you were born with your season, you lived with your season, and you died with your season. And nothing in Hell, in Heaven, or on Earth could change that.

* * *

 **A/N: Aaaand cut. Because this is where it started being terrible.**

 **Besides, there are like way too many plot-holes in this piece of junk. Like, shouldn't Jokul's armor have melted _years_ before now?**

 **And where did all that crap with "you were born with your season, you live with your season, and you die with your season" come from anyways? Like, what the actual hell?**


	4. Powdered Glass

**A/N: This is one of those things where I got an epic idea and I was like "this is going to be the best one-shot ever!"...then I wrote it and I was like "WHAT. THE HELL. IS THIS CRAP."**

 **...So I put it here.**

 **If you're one of those readers who like to listen to music while they're reading (and even if you aren't), go look for the song "The Devil Within" by Digital Daggers. Trust me, it fits.**

 **Disclaimer: ::sings:: You'll never know what hit you...won't see the truth coming...I'm gonna make you suffer...I DON'T OWN ROTG!**

* * *

 _I will keep quiet  
You won't even know I'm here  
You won't suspect a thing  
You won't see me in the mirror  
But I crept into your heart  
You can't make me disappear  
Til I make you_

 _I made myself at home  
In the cobwebs and the lies  
I'm learning all your tricks  
I can hurt you from inside  
I made myself a promise  
You would never see me cry  
Til I make you_

 _You'll never know what hit you  
Won't see me closing in  
I'm gonna make you suffer  
This hell you put me in  
I'm underneath your skin  
The devil within  
You'll never know what hit you-"_The Devil Within", by Digital Daggers

* * *

They never knew. Too happy to include him in their group, too delighted to give him a home, too glad to try to fix something that was merely powdered glass.

They never knew he hated them.

They never knew his plan.

They should have known better. Three hundred years of abuse and neglect do not just vanish like a shadow simply because you shine a keychain flashlight onto it. A few well-meant words, a hug or two, a few brief moments of acceptance cannot wash away three centuries of isolation and rejection.

But the Guardians were always narrow-minded, foolish spirits. Same as they didn't notice when he was alone and suffering, so they didn't notice when he was surrounded by others and plotting. None of them noticed the intricate blueprints and maps concealed in his room at the Pole that detailed each of their strengths and weaknesses. None of them noticed the weapons their youngest hid under his bed, each attuned to bring them down one by one. None of them noticed his dark smiles and his overcast eyes.

And so, quietly, persistently, they dug their own graves.

For powdered glass may be broken, but it was deadly all the same.

* * *

Jack hated looking at himself in the mirror.

It was just a quirk, born from centuries of being alone.

Centuries that the _Guardians_ had caused.

He tightened his grasp on his staff, watching passively in the mirror as his bright blue eyes darkened. Those foolish Guardians. Had they learned nothing from Pitch? Didn't they know that it was dangerous to leave one of their own kind to fend for themself, alone and hated by all?

And now, after _three hundred years_ of isolation, of rejection, of silence, _now_ they were flocking to him like a pack of over-possessive wolves, trying to slap band-aids and slave onto the stump of a missing limb.

How _dare_ they.

 _How_ _ **dare**_ _they!_

With a yell, he smashed the end of his staff right through the center of the mirror, the harsh sound of shattered glass reaching his ears as a cobweb of cracks grew from the point of impact, before the shards collapsed to the ground in a jangling heap. His breathing came quick and fast as he glared in utter hatred at the pile of broken pieces. He was not worried about anyone coming to ask questions about the noise. No one had ever asked him anything. No one ever would.

He laughed, a raw, wild sound, as he remembered a conversation from long ago.

" _What make you think I want to be a Guardian?"_

" _Of course you want to be a Guardian!"_

As it was before, so it was then. No one had asked his opinion, or bothered to see if he even wanted to be a Guardian. They simply shoved him in a place he had no wish to be, and made him help them. Nothing ever changed. Nothing ever would.

Well, they wanted a new Guardian, now they had a new Guardian. Time for them to pay the price.

The plan itself had been simple. Infiltrate them. Make them trust him. Then kill them.

They trusted him already. His fake smiles and coaxing words had been more than enough to convince the morons that he was trustworthy. And while things might have been a bit rocky during the Easter fiasco (and boy, hadn't _that_ nearly wreaked his plans), the conflict was shortly smoothed out, and they soon began treating him like one of their own.

 _This_ was how to destroy the Guardians. Not a frontal assault that could be spotted from miles away, but a trick to beguile them into trusting a traitor with their lives. Now they were at his mercy.

He twirled the staff between his fingers. He was ready.

With a small, self-satisfied smile, he left the room and made his way through the corridors of the Pole to the Globe Room, where the Guardian meeting was currently in session.

And as he gently pushed the door to the Globe Room open, a sudden thought had him grinning widely:

They'll never know what hit them.

* * *

 **A/N: Yes. I know 'tis crappy. That's why it's here and not in "Shards of Ice"**

 **So yeah. This is some weird AU thing where Jack is evil. Yay.**

 **...Thoughts?**

 **P.S. Guys. There's a poll on my frikken profile. I need votes. Go vote. Shoo. ::shoos all of you away::**

 **Also, please _review_ , for MiM's sake. I keep on seeing my view counter go up but there aren't any reviews. Go review. The same goes for "Shards of Ice". I have only like three reviews on the last installment and it's driving me ballistic. GO REVIEW.**

 **Even if it's a criticism or a flame. Even if you have bad grammar, or your review makes no sense at all. JUST GO REVIEW ALREADY-**


	5. Just A Fable

**A/N:**

 **Ridiculously short AU drabble where both Jack and his sister died on the lake on that fateful day.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own RotG**

* * *

Never go near the lake, they say, because something there will take you.

The stories are always vague and uncertain. Some say that the voice of a young girl will call your name, luring you to the middle of the lake before breaking the ice underneath you. Others say that a boy with snow-colored hair and cerulean eyes will lure you to him with his high-pitched laughter, before touching you with his staff and turning you to an ice statue where you stand. Others still say that it is both a boy and a girl, who will invite you to play with them and then strangle you when you aren't looking.

And then, there are always a few, nervous-looking individuals, who insist repeatedly that these stories are lies. Yet, for some reason, these ones never live past their twenty-third year.

But these stories are just that: stories. Even if those who venture out to the lake never return, it's just a story. A story meant to frighten little children.

It's just a fable. A stupid little fable.

And nobody really believes in fables nowadays.

* * *

 **A/N: I seem to have a thing for dark!Jack. Huh.  
**

 **...Review?**


	6. The Madness Of Grief

**A/N: Um...not too happy with this one. I actually rather hate it. That's why it's here, and not in "Shards of Ice".**

 **So, the story behind this one is actually a rather amusing one. You see, back in the days when I was young and stupid (well, stupid _er_ ), I had a BRILLIANT idea. Basically, the story was that back before Jack was a Guardian, he found a group of Pookas stranded on Earth and decided to adopt them. Mighty original, ain't it?**

 **...Especially once I found out that practically EVERYONE had done that story before me.**

 **...Seriously. This is one of the most overdone story ideas in the history of RotG fanfiction. Right there among dark!Jack, "The Guardians seeing Jack's memories", Pooka!Jack, and stuff like that.**

 **Now, I'm not saying that these aren't good ideas. Far from it. These are _excellent_ ideas. But I'm a stickler for making my stories as original as I possibly can, so I instantly scrapped the idea.**

 **However, this little tidbit remained.**

 **This is possibly the most emotional scene in the entire story I had planned (I actually planned an entire story, with plot and everything, in half-an-hour), and the only part that I actually wrote. And it stinks to high heaven. But hey, this is a frikkin scrapbook, so I can post whatever the hell I want.  
**

 **(Even though this oneshot is horribly written)**

 **To avoid confusion, this is what is going on here: when Bunny found out that Jack had adopted a bunch of Pooka, Bunny instantly began to freak out. Now, Pookas and humans have a bad history (humans actually used to enslave and brainwash Pookas), so Bunny began to completely wig out, becoming overly protective of these last surviving members of his race and extremely suspicious of Jack. Eventually, things came to a head, and Bunny (in a desperate attempt to rescue the kits, and a mindset of "death in freedom is better than life in slavery") killed the Pookas in a landslide in order to "get them away" from Jack.**

 **Of course, Bunny was completely wrong. Actually, Jack had become rather attached to the Pookas. VERY attached.**

 **So when Bunny killed the Pookas, a grief-maddened Jack began to wig out. A lot.**

 **This is that wig out.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own.**

* * *

Rain fell from the sky in bucketfuls, drenching everything within minutes. Rivulets of mud and water gently flowed down the walls of the canyon, highlighting the place where a cliff had detached from the wall, falling in a massive landslide that had buried everything and everyone in its path. Yet this landslide had been far from natural.

Numb with shock, the winter spirit could only stare at the place where his family used to be. Vaguely, he was aware of his knees collapsing underneath him, of harsh sobs wracking his frame, of frigid tears slipping down his cheeks. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that his family was gone.

He saw, out of the corner of his vision, that damned kangaroo striding towards him purposefully. Yet he was too numb and despairing to really care.

"Ya really screwed up, didn't ya, mate?"

Pale fingers dug into the ground beside himself. _No, I didn't. You did. It's your fault._

"Y'know, I really thought we had somethin' for a moment, there. Ya seemed like a nice bloke, if a bit of a bloody showpony, and I really thought we could make somethin' of ya. Seems I was wrong."

 _You have no idea what you're saying, what you have done. You have no idea how much you have broken me. You know nothing._

"I suppose ya know what's gonna happen to ya now?"

Silence.

"I'll tell ya. We're gonna have ta strip ya of yer Guardianship, mate. And then I'm gonna kill ya, no matter what North says. Because ya deserve it, mate, ya really do."

 _Ha, as if. I would like to see you try, you bastard._

"I always knew ya were a bit of a drongo, Jackie. But enslavin' and brainwashin' members of my race is takin' things a bit too far in my book."

 _Why you little—how_ _ **dare**_ _you think I would do such a thing?!_

"Oh, don't give me none of yer crocodile tears, mate. We both know that ya didn't really care about them. All ya wanted was yer own personal set of slaves ta obey yer every whi-"

" **SHUT UP!** "

With the rapidity of a viper striking, the frost teen swiftly picked up his staff as he jumped to his feet and whirled to face the older Guardian. The latter's eyes widened in surprise as he reached for his boomerangs, but a well-timed blast of winter magic easily knocked the weapons away.

"You _bastard_!"

Cold, blue-gray eyes stared into Bunny's green ones, as blue-white magic crackled around the teen's body and his staff glowed a dangerous turquoise. With a shriek of rage and grief, the teen shot a powerful blast of winter magic at the Pooka, the latter barely making it out of the way in time.

A bitter, mocking laugh escaped the teen's lips, as his eyes took on a frantic gleam. "What, too frightened to fight me head on, bunny rabbit? Well, too bad for you, because I will make you _pay_!"

Another deadly flash of winter magic sped through the air towards the Pooka, once again forcing him to duck. With a furious snarl, the Pooka snapped at the teen. "Pay for what? For freeing the last of my people? For stopping yer insane scheme? For bein' unable ta just stand by as ya _brainwashed_ a bunch of helpless kits?"

Jack's face twisted in rage. "You didn't free them, you _killed_ them! And I didn't brainwash anyone, you stupid kangaroo! They were my family! My _only_ family!"

"Pig's arse! Ya had them wrapped around yer little finger, and they were none the wiser! If that ain't brainwashin' than I don't know what is!"

Another blast of winter magic left the teen, nearly freezing the Pooka. "Gee, you really are stupid, aren't you? Is it really so difficult to understand that I cared about them, and they cared about me, no brainwashing involved? Is that so difficult to comprehend, furball?"

"Ya know what? It is! Because Humans don't get along with Pookas, Jack! Humans _enslave_ Pookas. Humans _torture_ Pookas. And humans sure as hell don't adopt a bunch of Pookas as their family!"

Jack looked about ready to explode, every inch of him radiating pure fury. With a scream of rage, the teen leapt into the air, his body glowing as he rained a shower of icicles onto the Pooka. With a startled yelp, Bunny found himself ducking every which way to avoid the icicles.

Finally, with a wet _thunk_ , an icicle buried itself in his lower arm, causing him to cry out in pain. At his wits end, the rabbit swiftly picked up his discarded boomerang and swung it at the teen with his good arm. The boomerang easily hit its mark, clonking the teen over the head, and the rain of icicles stopped as Jack swerved drunkenly through the air, trying to stay airborne.

Eventually, the winter spirit was forced to land, unable to remain flying, the large gash running down the side of his forehead dripping with blood and staining his face and bangs a shiny crimson. With a groan, the teen touched down, his knees buckling slightly as he clutched the uninjured side of his forehead with his free hand.

The rabbit was preparing to throw his weapon a second time and end the teen once and for all, when a weak chuckle interrupted him.

"Heh, did you really think that a stupid piece of wood was going to bring me down?"

Before the Pooka's astonished gaze, Jack lightly tapped the gash with his finger, wincing as a makeshift bandage of bloody frost ferns formed over the wound. With another tap, the winter spirit thickened the bandage until the wound beneath was barely visible, before he flashed a tired yet savagely triumphant grin at his former friend.

"Think again." he whispered.

Then, without warning, he tossed another blast of pure winter energy at the rabbit.

This time, Bunny was not so lucky. With a yelp, the rabbit shivered as his ears were frozen, followed by his injured arm. With another blue-white flash, the rabbit was flash-frozen where he stood, unable to move a single muscle.

A psychotic smile on his face, the winter spirit's eyes danced with glee as he took in the helpless state of his enemy. With a flourish, the teen raised his staff to deal the final blow.

"No! Jack, wait!"

The winter spirit simply grinned, his staff glowing brightly. "No, Bunny, no more waiting. Not anymore. And do you want to know why?"

Ice and razor-sharp snowflakes formed around the teen, swirling in a mad dance, each shining a brilliant white. They seemed to highlight his pale skin and snow-white hair, and for the first time, Bunny saw the madness in the teen's ice-blue eyes for what it truly was.

This was not the madness of sadism, of pleasure derived from suffering, of greed, of cruelty, of an uncaring soul.

This was the madness of _grief._

And the worst part? Bunny now realized that he himself _deserved_ to die. Not Jack. Never Jack. Only him. Because he, Bunny, had done the worst thing a Pooka could ever do.

He had separated a kit from its father.

"Well, Bunny? _Do_ you want to know why?"

Silence.

"I'll tell you. Because, Bunny, you just killed my daughter. And now, I will kill _you_!"

* * *

 **A/N: Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Jack formally adopted one of the younger Pooka kits as his own daughter. Her name was Amaryllis. And Bunny was in love with her, before he killed her. So sad.**

 **So, here we have some good ol' grief-maddened!Jack, father!Jack, vengeful!Jack, and guilty!Bunny. Oh, and some murderer!Jack.**

 **...My brain is weird.**


End file.
